


Sunny Side Up

by breeisonfire



Series: The Breakfast 'Verse [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Beware of swearing, Multi, Varric Owns A Bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 20:20:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4680044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breeisonfire/pseuds/breeisonfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there was one thing in his life that Varric Tethras regretted, it was his decision to open a bar.</p>
<p>Seriously, what was he <i>thinking</i>? He had frequented bars since before he was of age, he knew what kind of shit happened in them. He was an idiot. He was the biggest idiot to ever own a business.</p>
<p>That probably wasn’t remotely true, but he was prone to dramatics. Sue him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunny Side Up

If there was one thing in his life that Varric Tethras regretted, it was his decision to open a bar.

Seriously, what was he _thinking_? He had frequented bars since before he was of age, he knew what kind of shit happened in them. He was an idiot. He was the biggest idiot to ever own a business.

That probably wasn’t remotely true, but he was prone to dramatics. Sue him.

A voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“You doin’ okay there, Varric?”

He looked up to see The Iron Bull staring at him, an empty tankard in his hand. He had no idea why the big guy went by ‘The Iron Bull,’ but that’s what he’d introduced himself as the first day he and his Chargers had shown up at _Bianca’s_ , so that was what everyone called him.

“Jesus, Tiny, you ever considered maybe pacing yourself?” Varric said, taking the tankard. He refilled it from the tap. He passed the tankard back over the bar and watched Iron Bull take a large gulp.

“Nah,” he said once he’d lowered the tankard. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Longer life expectancy, healthier liver,” Varric said. “Less hangovers, that’s a nice one.”

“You’re a bartender, trying to talk people out of drinking?” one of Bull’s boyfriends, the always _delightful_ Dorian Pavus, decided to join the conversation. “You’d think you’d welcome the business, especially in this area.”

“Yeah, say it a little louder, Sparkler, I don’t know if the members of this neighborhood heard you clearly enough,” Varric said dryly.

“Alright, you two, I’ve had enough sarcasm for one day,” Bull said, though his grin gave him away. “Thanks for the refill, Varric.”

Varric didn’t even get a chance to recover before the door flew open and Sera, his favorite pain-in-the-ass regular, came storming in.

“Whoa, Buttercup, rough day?” Varric said when she reached the bar.

“Ran into a coupla’ tits picking on a kid,” Sera said, punctuating her words by kicking the stool after each word. “A bloody _kid_. Couldn’t have been more than eight years old. She had a piece of bread in her hand and these two _arseholes_ just try to steal it!”

“What did you do?” Varric asked, placing a shot of whiskey in front of her.

“What I always do,” Sera said, pausing to down the shot. “Fuckin’ ran them off. A _kid_. You wanna be a real thief, you don’t take from kids! They’re _kids_.”

“Fair enough,” Varric said, pouring her another shot. “You may want to keep the Guide to Thievery on the downlow, though. Doesn’t look good for business.”

“Whatever,” Sera grumbled.

“Cheer up, Buttercup,” Varric said. “The band’s playing tonight. You remember how to make the microphone sound funny?”

Sera scoffed. “Of course I remember. I invented that prank.”

“Uh-huh,” Varric said. He glanced towards the door as it opened, noticing a new guy walking in. It didn’t happened often; _Bianca’s_ wasn’t exactly a tourist destination. It had its regulars, and that was about it.

All the same, Varric moved over as the new guy sat down, two seats from Sera. He had a ridiculous beard, and Varric’s brain had a few seconds of ‘ _Wow, what’s the story behind tha_ t’ before he focused and said, “What’ll it be?”

“Bourbon,” the newcomer said. “Whatever you’ve got will work.”

Varric kept an eye on the guy while he fixed the drink. He seemed to be largely uninterested in the people around him, his gaze fixed solely on the TV Varric had placed on the wall behind the bar. He accepted the glass without looking at Varric, grunting his thanks.

_Oh, now, that’s not allowed_.

“New in town?” Varric asked.

The man finally turned his attention towards him. “You...could say that.”

“That doesn’t sound suspicious,” Varric nodded solemnly.

The man’s eyes narrowed, apparently unable to tell if he was joking. Sera snorted and held out her shot glass. Varric refilled it, still looking at the man.

“What’s your name?” he asked, pulling a cup out and filling it with water. He pushed it at Sera, knowing she was probably giving him a look.

“You can call me Blackwall,” the man said, watching the interaction between him and Sera.

“You can call me Archangel,” Varric said.

“I figured you were Bianca,” Blackwall deadpanned.

“No, my dear sweetheart Bianca  is up there, on the wall,” Varric gestured.

He thought Blackwall raised an eyebrow, but there was quite a lot of hair on the man’s face. It was hard to tell.

“She’s a crossbow,” Sera said, rolling her eyes.

“Don’t speak of my baby in that tone,” Varric said. “Drink your damn water.”

Sera made a face at him, but raised the glass to her lips. Varric pretended not to notice as he turned back to Blackwall.

“I have to ask,” he said. “What’s the story behind your beard?”

“Well, I had to get a beard of one kind,” Blackwall said, his tone dry. He turned to Sera. “Don’t suppose you’d be willing to be a beard of a different kind, if you know what I mean.”

In retrospect, Varric should have known what was coming. Sera _hated_ being hit on by men; she considered it demeaning and disrespectful. This proposal was somehow worse, so he really should not have been surprised when Sera turned to Blackwall, pulled back her arm, and punched him square in the face.

The force behind her punch knocked Blackwall right off his stool. The thud from him hitting the ground seemed to catch the attention of everyone in the bar, and for the first time in the three years _Bianca’s_ had been open, the room was completely silent. Varric held his breath, hoping the police weren’t called. He really, _really_ didn’t need that on top of everything else.

Blackwall seemed to be stunned, still lying on the floor where he’d landed, his legs tangled in the stool. His drink, which had still been in his hand when he’d fallen, had spilled on the floor, though the glass had miraculously not broken. Varric opened his mouth to say something, anything, to make this better, but before he had the chance, Blackwall started laughing.

Varric stared as Blackwall laughed uproariously, slowly sitting up. He wondered if the man had hit his head too hard when he’d fallen. Sera was frozen, her mouth slightly open and her hand still in a fist, as if she’d surprised herself.

“Um,” Varric said, then cleared his throat. “Do you, uh, need anything? Ice pack? Ride to the doctor? Free drinks? Firstborn child?”

Blackwall made it to his feet, still laughing, and turned to Varric. He reached down and picked up his glass, setting it on the bar before setting his stool upright and sitting down.

“What I need,” he said, “is to buy this young lady a drink. That was one _hell_ of a punch you’ve got there.”

“Damn right,” Bull said. At some point, he’d made his way towards the bar, probably intending to defend Sera – or pull her off Blackwall. Whichever was needed. “Sera here is one hell of a fighter. I tried to get her to join the Chargers, but she wasn’t having it.”

“I don’t need to be a part of your motorcycle gang,” Sera sniffed. “I can take care of myself.”

“I believe it,” Blackwall said. “Now, then, Archangel, the rest of Sera’s drinks tonight are on me.”

“If you insist,” Varric said. He decided not to mention that most of Sera’s drinks were on the house (perks of being his longest and most loyal costumer for three years). Blackwall had offered, after all.

Sera grinned and sat down in her stool again. “You’re gonna regret this. I can outdrink anyone in this place.”

“You keep telling yourself that, Buttercup,” Varric said.

“If you’re up for a _real_ challenge –,” Bull started, but Varric interrupted him.

“No one needs to hear about your rare ‘strongest drink in the land,’ Tiny,” he said. “It’s not even legal here.”

“It’s not _illegal_ ,” Bull said. “It’s all about the technicalities.”

“I’m not dealing with technicalities on my property,” Varric said. “Go open your own bar, somewhere far away from mine.”

“You’d miss us,” Bull said, handing over his tankard. “We bring you good business.”

“A headache, more like,” Varric grumbled. “Why I opened a bar in the first place, I’ll never know.”

“It’s because you have such a winning personality,” Blackwall said, causing Sera to snort again.

“Hardy har har,” Varric said. “Another comedian to join the bunch. Wonderful.”

_I brought this on myself._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. This is a Modern Day AU known as the Breakfast 'Verse to me and my roommates. We've been tossing this idea around for what feels like months, 'What if Varric owned a bar,' 'What if Sera punched Blackwall in the face,' 'What if Solas was in a band and played at Varric's bar but is also a professor at Oxford.' Ya know. The likes. Welcome to Hell.
> 
> Anyway, there's more to come. This is un-beta'd and was kind of written in a hurry, so let me know if you find any mistakes. Thanks for reading!


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